Stories I Never Finished

Cyanide (Type 1)

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p r e v i e w

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Dress fabric in layers of pink and white fluttered with a whoosh of subtle sound, the body of its wearer being thudded into a wall among darkness whose touch was guarded by a soft blue aura of illumination emitting from lanterns hanging from the long stretch of a club ceiling.

A large jagged knife glinted in the light, pressed to the tender throat of the maniac in a dress like a dolled up mannequin, and the twenty-three-year-old male let out a haunting giggle; it's sickening sound parting through pink painted lips of glitter and gloss while dark hazel eyes fluttered beneath the soft touch of glittering pink makeup.

"Cut me." Ashton's expression held a wicked grin, vile in its need for blood. "C'mon."

The growl of his attacker sent waves of amusement through the lolita's body, hands pressed to the wall and body waiting for the next move from the gruff club owner.

A fight had broken out, harsh looking men in layers of black fighting against the madmen who had attacked their gentleman's club late in the night, guided by the moon whose light itched to see the blood on their clothes should they take a step outside into her cold air.

The man snarled, his hand adjusting its grip on the knife, and he etched the blade back ready to slash across Ashton's neck.

It was within a blink of an eye and the man was on the ground in a thump of collapsed meat and bones. The knife clattered, skidding across carpeted floor, and Ashton let out a hum of amusement at the sight.

His blond friend stood over the attacker, deep navy high-heel stomped on the man's back so hard it threatened to dig its stiletto heel through fabric and flesh.
Luke flicked a strand of blond hair from his face, blue dress like a navy shadow on his body—an evening gown so subtle in its silk touch Ashton almost reached out to grab it's fabric held onto broad shoulders by thin straps.

Gun in his hand, blue rings glistened in the dim lighting alongside the glimmer of diamond bracelets as the tall slender blond adjusted his grip on his handgun and pulled the trigger with a bang; splattering the attacker's brains across the carpet with a wave of blood.

Ashton clasped his hands together, an evil smile on his face as blue eyes flickered to meet his gaze, and within a moment's breath of time he snatched a waiting blade from the many strapped to his upper thigh—hidden by his dress—and ditched a blade into the head of a man who had tried to lunge for Luke without the man noticing.
He fell to the floor with a thump and Luke stepped off the body of the now dead man.

"Thanks." Luke turned away quickly, shooting dead another man while Ashton snatched his blade from the dead man's face and violently lunged for another kill; leaping into a jump and slamming his knife into his victim's throat.

Hands gripped to the blade's thin pink handle, Ashton ripped it through the man's throat before tearing it out and slamming it straight into his eye; sending the screaming man backwards into a clutter of tables and chairs and causing Ashton to jump back with his knife to save himself from falling too.

He leaned forward with ease and sent his blade straight through the man's second eye; embedding it's bloodied metal deep into squelched flesh.

With a stumble, his pastel pink pumps clicked against the floor until his back was pressed into the body of another man, vivid green eyes staring down at the lolita as Ashton spun around with a fresh knife ready in his grasp.

The knife cautiously lowered, recognising the man dressed in dark black—a turtleneck tucked beneath his suit pants and blazer like a vile CEO—, though he didn't get to open his mouth and speak to the madman when another voice tore all attention toward it.